


Dragonlock Hybrid

by DestinedForJohnlock



Series: DestinedForJohnlock's Bits and Pieces [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dragon Sherlock, Dragonlock, Gen, Hybrids, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2018-01-04 03:44:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestinedForJohnlock/pseuds/DestinedForJohnlock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock comes from a long line of dragon Hybrids.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dragonlock Hybrid

**Author's Note:**

> Few things. 1) This is why I don't type up prompts for Omegle because this happens. 2) This isn't finished. Like there's no end. Because I can keep going. And how the hell do I end this. 3) I made up the shit at the beginning, but Sherlock's behaviors were inspired by [Dev](http://green-grape-gaze.tumblr.com), who I'm in the middle of a wonderful [Sherstrade Dragonlock RP](http://green-grape-gaze.tumblr.com/post/68150473155/you-were-always-mine) with (you can read part one of three in that link). 4) I'm posting this unfinished anyway because I don't care. 5) It's just a bunch of history and descriptions. I guess headcanons, I don't even know how to describe this.
> 
> There's really no story here, but feel free to continue on anyway.

Hybrids had been introduced into society as early as 450 AD. They were regarded as Gods, their history recorded up to that point to the best of their ability. They reigned for centuries following, dethroning or marrying into the royalty of the time. They usually hibernated in the Winter seasons. In the Summers, their ancestors and distant relatives, full-fledged dragons, were praised and celebrated in the manner appropriate for the region they were from. Mountain dragons were given parades around the mountain bases, scented smoke from burning natural incense curled up in the sky that rivaled that of the smoke produced from the dragons themselves, surrounding the tall masses of earth and foliage and trees. Those of the sea featured days of offerings from nearby villages and towns, natural decorative materials sent out with the tide as dances and boat races lasted into the nights and early sunrise when the Sea dragons made brief appearances in thanks to put on a show of shimmering waves and washing plenty of fish ashore to feed the villages for the days following. Plains dragons were nocturnal, so the people slept during the day and gathered around in open fields at fire pits at night, cooking up the previous weekend’s hunt for the whole of the town and passing down stories of their dragons to younger generations, of which the Plains dragons thanked them by herding wild livestock to the edges of the fields for the week after (though many can argue that they do so for themselves, the thrill of the chase giving them something worth doing). They lived harmoniously, dragons looked after by Hybrids and humans alike and vice versa.

Around 1300 AD, Frost dragons emerged from a millennia’s slumber only to show extreme displeasure with the other dragons’ decision to integrate with humans. They attacked. It took only decades before Hybrids were nearly wiped out of existence and full dragons had been driven to madness, attacking those they did not recognize. Oftentimes, they fought with each other over land. Humans felt betrayed, lashing out as generations forgot about the dragons’ previous god-like status and saw them as nothing but monsters, creatures that had burned, drowned, and buried villages and towns at a time. Hybrids were ostracized or imprisoned, or in worst case scenarios sold off as slaves. With the dragon population dwindling, the Hybrid population boomed. Hiding away only worked for so long and containing them was near impossible. How they’d changed was kept secret for years, passed on only to relatives and other very close friends – those who stuck around after the change. Whether they joined or not was up to them. Most opted to, consuming dragon blood of their preferred region. It was a painful process, and with it came readjusting to features dependent on their regions.

Mountain Hybrids had scarlet patches of scales over their shoulders and down their spine, spreading over their lower back, and eyes turned yellow. Their shoulders were broader, arms stronger. Sea Hybrids had blue-green scales grow around their forearms and biceps and triceps, and they followed the muscle of the calves into the ankles. Their eyes were green, pupils wide, and leg muscles were more defined, accentuated with the scale growth. Plains Hybrids had tan scales grow around the backs of their hands and wrists, down their front in patterns that outlined abdominal muscles and grew sparse around ribs. Dark brown irises were common, often as dark as pupils that were pinpoint in size. Frost Hybrids, of which were few, grew either black or white scales depending on the hemisphere their ancestors originated from. Northern Frost Hybrids grew white ones, Southern grew black. Their scales grew similarly, over their collarbones and down to their elbows, smaller and smoother ones over their wrists and into the palms of their hands. Northerners had some that grew in thin lines from the corner of their brows to circle in their temples, blending in with their hairline. Southerners had them on their necks, following in a thin line from the corner of their jaws down to frame the tendons of their neck to meet the ones at their collarbones. Their eyes were anything from silvery grey to a blend of greys and bright blues, and their pupils were slit much like a cat’s. They were lithe, tall with prominent, striking facial features which differed from person to person.

Around 1800, the enslavement of Hybrids ended and they were integrated back into society.

After two hundred years battling oppression with mild successes and a lingering negative attitude toward them, Hybrids had established themselves as productive members of society, seeking high education and career opportunities recently available to them and developing relationships with one another in a tight-knit community or those humans who held no prejudices.

The Holmeses descended primarily from Frost dragon Hybrids, ironically considered pure-bred. That is, after dragons had fallen extinct and full dragon blood presumably lost forever, hybrids in their direct line mated only with each other. Further along in the branches, some married Hybrids of other regions. Daring ones married humans. Those had thinning dragon blood with each generation, their features disappearing until they passed as human. Sherlock’s particular branch of the family had remained as pure to the Frost region as they could manage. There was the occasional mixed region match, and some physiological traits had passed down throughout the generations as a reflection of it. Mycroft was born with fair hair and complexion, his scales white with the hint of red in the sunlight. His scales flowed as easily as a Frost Hybrid’s , though in a mixed pattern between Mountain and Frost, with the facial scales of the Frost and the back scales of the Mountain. He had Frost eyes and Mountain shoulders, much like their mother. Sherlock looked very much like the Southern Frost of their father, with dark hair and pale skin, Frost eyes scales that grew in black, edged with white. Blended scales were a rare occurrence and he was praised for them while growing up.

Sherlock’s sharp senses came with his biology, his wit from his mother, his curiosity from his father. He took advantage of it at an early age and quickly learned that humans were not as trustworthy as he had expected. He was well aware of his lineage, his family history, dragon history in general. Yet children with ancestors who suffered at the fate of his own were persuaded away from him and his ‘kind’ at an early age, robbing themselves and Sherlock a chance to break the social stigma. So from then on, he lived it simply because it was expected of him. He turned his cold, calculating attention on someone, usually deserving by the standards he’d placed on everyone else, and used his skills to alienate himself from humans and other Hybrids alike. Frosts weren’t trusted, weren’t messed with. Sherlock gave them reason not to.

He experimented with drugs in university. Hybrids were typically resistant, requiring heavy doses to feel the same effects humans did with so little. It’s what he spent his time doing, what he spent his money on. On more than one occasion it had gotten him in trouble. When he wasn’t busy sucking cock for cocaine, his dealer and dalliances at the time, all human, had gotten ahold of some false information. One night, Sherlock had gone for more coke. They tied him up and tried to drain him of blood. They wanted to turn, and they were going to use Sherlock to do it. That’s the night he met Lestrade.

Detox began in the Winter, his hibernating season. Hybrids in colder areas compromised with employers and teachers and often worked from home, making trips to work or class on days they couldn’t avoid it. Sherlock hadn’t cared about that responsibility before, opting instead to get by with his course work without the warning and await the Spring. Once he’d been taken to Lestrade’s for the first Winter, he stayed. Mycroft agreed to let Sherlock remain in lieu of rehab, much to Lestrade’s dismay. They managed that Winter.

Dragons were social creatures. Hybrids weren’t much different. During the Winter seasons, they craved contact with others they considered worthy of their season. Nesting was a common practice. They hoarded whatever objects took their fancy in the appointed spot and guarded their ‘treasure’ lest someone try to steal from them. Sherlock, on top of the detox, had effectively taken over Lestrade’s flat at the time. He hid anything metal, anything with a shine, beneath Lestrade’s bed. He began collecting numerous blankets to throw about and nest in, scenting and rolling in them naked and piling them over himself to create domes of otherwise insufferable heat. During the day while Lestrade was at work and Sherlock was left in the flat, Sherlock sulked, whining and vocalizing his distress with what many would consider utterly pitiful sounds, cries lonely dragons used to make to find a companion or, eventually, a mate to spend the Winter with. They weren’t words, they weren’t coherent; just low rumbles and constant keening. Adjusting to the season wasn’t easy for either of them.

It was around then that Sherlock discovered a use for his skills. Lestrade would bring home cold case files to distract him, fuss over the mess, and carry on with his evening as Sherlock absorbed himself in the files, found things the humans would otherwise miss. He had impressed Lestrade, who’d taken to calling him ‘Sunshine’ over the course of the season (and Sherlock wasn’t sure how exactly he felt about it), and from then on worked as a consultant for NSY.

He still found ways to claim Lestrade’s flat as his own during the Winters following, often breaking into it and settling down before Lestrade could leave his office. It wasn’t a habit, not really. It was natural that Sherlock choose Lestrade as his season companion. The DI’s scent calmed his otherwise anxious antics and provided him the peace of mind he’d otherwise suffer. Lestrade eventually accepted it as truth.


End file.
